Lost Time (Time Out)

by Joshua Grant

  At the end of the street, I saw what appeared to be a thick black fog floating near the ground, as if it had come up out of the earth itself. It was the same black, misty darkness that I had witnessed prior to entering the slave quarters. Now it was now denser, almost like a thick, billowing fog. Its edges were nondescript, and rather vague in form, though it now formed a more elongated appearance than a blob. The fog looked like the exhaust from a diesel engine, only much blacker and thicker. My eyes followed it as it undulated over and around the edges of the city, as if seeking the most advantageous entry.

  After watching this fog for a few minutes, I realized even though I had sensed it on a deeper level the moment I first saw it, normal fog would travel wherever the wind took it… but not this fog. At each doorway, this fog paused for a few seconds, as if examining the house. It was as if it sought a certain scent, or presence, and in the absence thereof, would then proceed to the next house. It passed over most of the houses in the area where I stood, since almost all the people in this area were Israelites. As it moved toward where the Israelite encampment ended, however, things started happening.

  These houses didn’t have lamb’s blood smeared on the doorposts. At these houses, the black fog paused, reared back and then oozed inside, seeping under doors and through any other crack it could find. It didn't seem to matter if the dwelling belonged to a slave or an Egyptian. If it didn’t have lamb’s smeared on the doorways, the fog swept inside.

  Once the fog left each house, it wasn’t more than a few moments before I heard blood-curdling screams. I could only imagine the pain these people felt upon wakening and discovering their beloved children, or firstborn husbands or fathers, dead. Some adults ran outside, eyes wild with grief and pain, searching for a culprit, but all they saw was the slowly advancing black fog. They collapsed in the streets, cradling their dead children in their arms. One man ran from his house, eyes wide with fear as he clutched his throat, gasping for breath. The black mist hovered around his figure as he thrashed and tried to escape, but failed. Moments later, he fell to the ground and with a final spasm, died. I heard the squealing of horses and donkeys, and a donkey tied up beside a house up the street suddenly dropped dead in its tracks. As my eyes swept around the street, I saw a dead dog and cow lying in the pasture beyond the stable.

  I suddenly didn’t feel so excited anymore. This was tragic in every sense of the word. That the punishment had been forewarned and many failed to heed the warning was beside the point. The firstborn of every household was doomed if not protected by the Lord’s blessing through the lamb’s blood. The black mist was unstoppable, unemotional, and focused on the task at hand.

  I was about to return to the slave barracks so I didn’t have to witness this terrible tragedy, when suddenly Moses and Aaron bolted from inside and rushed past me. They seemed intent on getting to the pharaoh’s palace. I stepped inside and spoke to one of the slaves.

  “Where are Moses and Aaron going?”

  “They have been summoned to Pharaoh’s throne room,” the slave replied, cowering on his pallet beside the door. “Close the door so we don’t have to listen. This death plague is unfortunately a necessity, but we’d rather not hear the screams of those in pain.”

  Without saying another word, I left the house and ran after Moses and Aaron, who had already disappeared into the Pharaoh’s palace. I raced up the steps. At the top of the steps, I saw a dead guard, an expression of terror frozen on his face. His bloodshot eyes bulged and his hands were frozen into claws, as if he had tried desperately to ward off the mist, but to no avail. No sooner had I made my way toward the throne room inside the Pharaoh’s palace than I heard an ear-splitting, sorrow-filled scream.

  I entered the throne room just in time to see Pharaoh emerge from another chamber, which must have been a bedroom or small antechamber. To avoid being seen, I quickly ducked and hid behind one of many nearby sculptures.

  Pharaoh appeared possessed by an evil spirit. He moaned in rage or pain, I couldn’t tell which, while he staggered and crashed through the throne room, pushing over decorations and tearing down tapestries in a fit of rage. After a few minutes of this erratic behavior, he seemed to run out of energy and collapsed to his knees, hanging his head in sorrow.

  Moses and Aaron watched Pharaoh with compassion, their eyes filled with compassion, not only for the Pharaoh who had lost his firstborn, but for the loss of life beyond the palace. If only Pharaoh had listened to Moses and Aaron, if he had listened to God’s words imparted through Moses, this sorrow might have been avoided.

  “My son! My poor innocent son!” Pharaoh cried, cupping his face in his hands as if he wanted to tear it right off of his head. Turning to Moses, he cried. “How could you let this happen to him?”

  Moses eyed him calmly. “This is no one’s fault but yours; the Lord has judged you for your evil ways. This all could have been avoided if you’d listened to me when I warned you.” Moses replied.

  I watched Pharaoh’s response. A look of extreme sadness and heartache on Pharaoh’s face quickly changed into a look of intense anger and bitterness. He swiftly turned and spat at Moses’ feet. I saw the expression of extreme contempt for Moses on his face. He looked like he wanted to kill Moses right there on the spot for saying that. Fortunately for Moses, he didn’t do.

  Instead, he waved his arm. “Leave my people, you and the Israelites! Go, worship the Lord as you have requested. Take your flocks and herds, and go. Just… go.”

  The Pharaoh bit out the words as if holding back the full force of his anger. I saw the veins bulging on his forehead and his face turning bright red, so I knew he meant business.

  Without saying another word, I watched as Moses and Aaron turned and silently left the throne room. I supposed they were going to gather the Israelites and prepare to leave Egypt once and for all. With nothing else I wanted to see here, I decided to skip forward in time once again. I took out the device and pressed the “fast-forward” button, hoping that I didn’t travel ahead too far ahead.

  Once the portal appeared, I quickly entered it before anyone saw me. Again, I felt caught up in this vortex that I had gradually grown accustomed to. No longer did my stomach rumble when inside the portal, although I did continue to feel the pressure in my skull, and my blood pressure rose as if my heart would burst open any second.

  When I emerged from the other side, I found myself standing in front of a sea, though unlike any sea I had ever seen. The water glistened under a mid-day sun and a gentle breeze riffled through my hair. The air smelled of sand and salt, causing a pang of homesickness to stab at my heart. It was so peaceful that I suddenly became aware of how much I wished I could’ve taken a hot shower right then. I hadn’t showered since my journey began, and it would have felt so relaxing, helping to ease the growing tension in my body as a result of my ‘adventures’. I couldn’t help but stare at the landscape around me and for a few minutes, marveling at God’s beautiful and wondrous creation. I stood at the apex of a high ridge, while before me the land dropped down into an immense valley. Not far in the distance, I saw the shores of a huge lake or sea. It curved around and disappeared behind me somewhere, hidden by a hill. Craggy foothills surrounded the northern edge of the water’s shores, growing higher and darker in the distance. Devoid of trees or shrubs, the land appeared arid and desolate. The land closest to the water was flat with scattered low-lying shrubs, clusters of rock and sandy patches. The water itself was beautiful, a light aqua blue closest to the shore that darkened into an azure blue as it deepened.

  It wasn’t long after I heaved a peaceful sigh that I identified a growing noise, a loud jumble of voices coming from the valley behind me. I made my way down the side of the hill, and several minutes later, as I rounded its eastern edge, I gazed further down slope, shocked to see a mass of people pushed up against the entire shoreline – thousands of men, women, children, their belongings and animals.

  “There has to be thousands of people here!” I thought in amaz
ement. Their voices blended together, producing a low rumble and buzz of voices I had only heard once before, when I attended a football game at a huge stadium in Seattle. I slowly walked down the hill, allowing the voices to guide me toward them, ever mindful of where I placed my feet on the loose, sandy soil of the hillside. I wondered how I would ever find Moses or Aaron in the midst of such a huge crowd of people, assuming they were here to begin with.

  Then, as if out of nowhere, a gust of wind swept through the crowd. It caught my hair and my robe, causing me to squint my eyes against blowing sand. I was stunned at the sight of humanity before me, all facing the sea. Near the shoreline, atop a large boulder, I recognized Moses, and Aaron, always close beside him.

  I turned to head in that direction, but felt stunned at the power and force of the growing wind. It had started out as a gentle breeze, but it gradually turned into a severe windstorm. People ducked against it, pulled their head wraps around their faces to protect their eyes, nose and mouth from whipping sand, and took whatever cover they could find to protect themselves from the wind.

  I had to use every ounce of my strength to turn around, against the fierce winds, and head back up the slope to reach Moses and Aaron from behind. It was obvious that I would never make it pressing my way through the crowd in front of me. I figured that I could get a better view of things from up there anyway, so I could figure out where to take cover myself. It was only then that I noticed Moses standing in almost the exact spot where I had been only moments before. The thing that caught my eye, however, was that the wind didn’t seem to be affecting him. Don’t get me wrong, the wind was very strong at this point, but it didn’t so much as rustle Moses’ clothes. Beside him, Aaron’s robe fluttered wildly with the breeze, but he stood straight and tall, his eyes focused on his brother. Moses cast his gaze over the thousands of people pressed against the water’s shores, and then further beyond them, toward where I now knew Pharaoh’s chariots would soon be following.

  I stood and watched as Moses slowly turned to face the sea. Then, he bowed his head. Moments later, his gaze lifted and settled on the opposite shore, which must have been at least a mile or two across the span of water. It was hard to tell now, with the wind whipping sand and saltwater spray into the air. Quickly and forcefully, as if he were a boxer that had just won a fight, Moses raised his staff toward the heavens.

  As soon as his staff rose, the wind stopped – suddenly and completely, as if the wind itself was his to command. No, saying the wind stopped would be an understatement. It was as if all noise stopped; no whispers from the crowd and definitely no blowing of the wind. The only thing I could compare it to would be the quietness one would experience in the eye of a hurricane, or the calm before a storm.

  Then, the noise started again. Only this time the noise wasn’t in the air around us, it erupted from the depths of the sea itself. Was it an earthquake, the formation of a tornado … suddenly I realized what was happening. The parting of the Red Sea! I stood frozen, though my heart raced with excitement. To my amazement, I was about to witness one of the most mysterious of Biblical miracles, an event that was still hotly debated among scientific and religious circles today. I ran up the hill as fast as I could so I would have a better view of this miracle as it happened. When I reached the top of the hill, gasping with breath and with trembling legs, I stood stock still, amazed by what I saw.

  The water churned like an earthquake had ruptured the sea floor, driving up huge waves that crested and then dropped erratically. Then, out of nowhere, I noticed the water along the seashore start to dry up. The water ebbed outward, away from shore, leaving wet sandy soil behind. Only the strange ebb tide didn’t affect the entire shoreline, but an isolated area of land about a half-mile across. To my surprise, it was as if the water simultaneously receded in two directions: both upriver and downriver. It seemed like the more the water ebbed, the faster it went.

  I stood there speechless as I watched the parting of the Red Sea. Almost exactly at the same moment the span of land dried as it reached the opposite shore, the noise of crashing waves and massive amounts of water being displaced suddenly ceased, as if God had once again pressed the “mute” button on the entire event. I closed my eyes and listened to the silence, all calm and quiet around me. Even the thousands of people remained silent, holding their collective breath in stunned amazement. When I opened my eyes again, I almost went into sensory overload because my mind couldn’t logically comprehend what I saw. A stretch of land a half-mile across headed right into the sea and ended on the opposite shore while great walls of water amassed on each side, as if held back by invisible walls, or like an invisible shield preventing the water from crashing down and filling the sea back in.

  Not only was the land corridor through the sea devoid of water… it was completely dry, as if it were a mini-desert going right through the middle of the sea. Prying my eyes away from the sea, I turned to watch Moses. He was more quick on his feet than I realized, since he no longer stood where he had had lifted his staff high above. I looked around, and it didn’t take me long to find him, already striding down the shoreline, ushering people into the corridor of dry land.

  Some people eyed this land bridge with mistrust and doubt, but Moses propelled them forward, urging them to move quickly. As soon as the first group of people entered the corridor, hundreds, then thousands followed. It wasn’t a mass free-for-all though, which stunned me, but a very orderly progression of men, women, children and their animals. As each family member reached the shoreline, and just before they stepped onto the land bridge, they cast a glance at Moses, who nodded and gestured them forward, sharing a quick glance of comfort with them as they decided to trust him. Then, off they went.

  I hurried down the hill toward the shoreline, barely being able to contain my excitement that I was going to have the privilege of walking through the Red Sea. As I ran down the hill, I stumbled over a rock and tumbled the rest of the way down. Sand filled my mouth as I fell head-over-heels, unable to slow or halt my descent. At the bottom, instead of being greeted by Moses, I was greeted by a sharp blow to my head as it came in contact with a huge boulder. I had landed just inside the land bridge, having rolled a short distance down the slope, too far for me to make it back in just a few steps. I fought against the growing darkness, my mind screaming that I didn’t want to be left behind, that I wanted to join the Israelites as they crossed the Red Sea. No! No, this wasn’t fair! This wasn’t—

  When I awoke, I found myself staring up at a clear blue sky. Then, I remembered what had happened and I sat up, fighting the wave of dizziness and nausea that assailed me. I lifted my hand to my aching head, but didn’t feel the sticky, warm wetness of blood. I frantically looked around, praying that the Red Sea hadn’t already filled back in. What I saw caused my heart to skip a beat. At first, I thought I saw a crowd of golden statues running across the land bridge, and then, as my brain kicked in, I remembered that statues were inanimate objects and couldn’t move. I realized that in fact that the objects I saw were Egyptian soldiers in their golden chariots, clothed in full armor and in hot pursuit of the fleeing Israelites.

  I staggered to my feet and broke into a run as I ran further along the land bridge. I was far behind the Egyptians, so they didn’t see me, and I thought everything was going fine… until I got to about the halfway point.

  All of a sudden, I heard a low rumbling behind me, even over my ragged breathing. Fearing the worst, I turned to look over my shoulder and I barely smothered the scream that threatened to escape my throat. The Red Sea was filling back in at an alarming rate! As if the walls holding back the water had disappeared, the water rushed in to fill the empty void, beginning at the far shoreline and quickly working its way toward me. Since I was halfway down the corridor, the cascade of water hadn’t reached me yet, but I knew I had less than thirty seconds before it did and I’d become a permanent lawn ornament on the bottom of the Red Sea.

  Thinking quickly, I reached into my pocket an
d retrieved the T.O.M. device. I pointed it at the ground ahead of me. As I fumbled with the buttons, I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder, as death fast approached. By now, the Egyptians had also realized the water was closing in on them and propelled their horses onward, their whips rising and cracking over their backs in the hope they could make it to the far shore in time.

  As I punched the necessary buttons and the portal opened, the wall of water finally reached me. I felt like I had been hit by a brick wall but I knew it was the water of the Red Sea striking me with all of its strength. Fortunately, I was propelled through the portal when this happened, pushed and carried through it on a wave along with several thousand gallons of water.

  Chapter 9

  I emerged from the other side of the portal and landed face-first in a huge mound of sand, but the sand quickly turned into mud as the water that gushed through the portal splashed over me, into my eyes, my nose and my mouth. I coughed and sputtered, trying to get my hands and knees under me to get up. I tried pushing myself up off the ground so I could survey my surroundings, but before got to my feet, someone grabbed my arm and helped me up. For a moment, fear swept through me. Had one of Pharaoh’s soldiers captured me again, and was I doomed to return to the slave quarters, this time more horribly treated or even tortured in revenge and reprisal for what Moses and his people had ‘done’ to Pharaoh and his people?

  As I spun around to face the person who held onto me, I found myself staring into the eyes of a kind-looking, middle-aged man wearing a long, dark cloak and turban. His clothes seemed newly made and not the typical clothes of a slave.

  I nodded my thanks and looked beyond the man. Behind him, a convoy of camels plodded slowly toward us, about fifteen in number. Both camels and riders looked tired, hungry and thirsty, as if they hadn’t had anything to drink in a very long time